Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Return to Reality
And Then There Were Three
3 reviews(AU) Harry awakes as a prisoner at the ministry, soon learning he has been under the Imperius curse and life as he thought he knew it never really happened. Knowledge is capricious, reality is tilt...
5Moving
... ... ... ...
Chapter Five: And Then There Were Three
... ... ... ...
They were speaking, Harry knew, but he wasn't listening. The words fell deaf, useless about him, ringing in his ears but not quite able to reach his brain, to form any sort of knowledgeable meaning. So he simply lay there, staring transfixed, his eyes boring hard into the back of Sirius' skull, unwavering, unblinking. Staring and staring and staring.
It quite simply wasn't possible.
Sirius was dead. He'd seen him die, he'd watched him fall.
Had he died? Was this hell?
But Sirius, the man who looked so much like his Sirius, was staring right back, the disbelieving glint in his eyes betraying that he didn't really think the situation possible either. This notion rather comforted Harry. And so Sirius kept staring, and Harry kept staring, and time past in unnoticed, uncared for. Vaguely Harry was aware of a letter being brashly composed, and a ruffled brown owl sent out into the frosty, dark morning. The sun was still yet to surface above a hash of stormy clouds, shedding no light on the circumstantial predicament.
" - are you even listening to me, Harry?"
"Harry?"
Harry started, turning slightly from his position on the large bed to snatch a look at Remus. He blinked. "Sorry, Remus," Harry began slowly, voice thick and caked, cracking from misuse. "What was that?"
Remus faltered, gripping his wand tighter still. Annoyance panned on his tired features, calculating an appropriate response.
"How do you feel?" Sirius asked quickly, speaking for the first time, filling the uneasy pause. "Are you alright?"
Harry nodded, though he didn't feel alright in the slightest, his eyes snapping uneasily between the two. He didn't understand - but that feeling of complete confusion was familiar now, quite the norm. Though, if he were to chose any two people that would believe him, love him unconditionally without any doubt, it would be them. He had no choice but to trust them now - his fate was in their hands. Harry's heart tightened, ready, waiting, swelled in accumulating anticipation. The progression of speech made apparent by Harry's response peaked their curiosity, threads of doubt loosened and questions ran unhindered, unbound.
"Where have you been?"
"Why did you come?"
"How'd you escape from the Ministry?"
"What do you want from us?"
Harry swallowed, shaking his head, ignoring the pointless interrogation. His eyes stung and his back ached - he had his own questions that had to be asked, that needed answers. They took priority. Harry had been right to go to Remus, then. He was glad. He'd explain, he'd understand. Harry decided reverently that he'd ignore the other man gaping at him, the man who resembled a happier, healthier Sirius then Harry had ever known before. It was too much to deal with all at once. The exposure of such an impostor would have to wait.
"I'm sorry," Harry stated, the picture of calm, a sharp contrast to his hidden turmoil, interrupting the jumble of questions thrown his way. "I just don't know - I don't understand anything right now." Harry crossed his arms across his chest, sitting up a little straighter in the bed, braced for whatever was to come, however hurtful it may be. "Won't you help me?"
Sirius looked to be considering. Almost.
Remus looked quite furious. "I think you're a little beyond our help nowadays, Harry."
"But why/?" Harry cried, unwinding all the pent up frustration that he hadn't been able to set loose before. This sort of nightmare wasn't fair - didn't he have enough to deal with already? Hadn't he had his own fair share of bad luck, of ill tidings? "For the last time, I'm not a fucking Death Eater! I never have been!! - You both /know that!"
Remus snorted. "Bloody hell, Harry! Cut the crap."
Harry growled, glaring at the werewolf. Since when had dear old Remus ever used such language? A bell chimed then, ringing down the halls of the old, creaking house. Remus and Sirius shared a look.
"I'll get it, then," Sirius offered, giving Harry a last stilted, disappointed glance. Harry felt queasy, unreasonably guilty.
But for the life of him, he couldn't understand /why/. Why the bloody hell any of this was happening.
Despite his earlier thoughts of rejoice at Remus' presence, Harry didn't then think he particularly wished to be left alone in the large dusty room with the angry werewolf. To say that Remus was positively livid would be a monstrous understatement - no, his anger reached far beyond that, breached far more personal levels. Harry couldn't think what anyone might possibly do to earn such wrath, such utter loathing from the usually kind, caring Remus.
He really didn't think he wanted to know.
"Remus," Harry pleaded, his voice quiet, cutting through the poignant silence. Remus was obviously at a loss as of what to say. Harry thought he might prefer Shacklebolt's gruff company to this. If there was ever a chance to get the truth of his words through to Remus it would be now, though."Please believe me," Harry spoke, and he brought his legs up from under the thick covers of the bed, gripping his knee caps with sweaty white knuckles. He still wore Dudley's gigantic coat, the pale blue shirt and the itchy hospitalesq trousers.
He felt dirty, contaminated. He felt plain wrong.
Remus chanced a glance at the open door, hushed voices rising from below the stairs, and took a threatening step towards Harry, his wand still held steadily before him. It was quite obvious he had no desire to carry any sort of redeemable conversation.
"Shut up, Harry," Rems told him through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring and eyes suspicious. "I swear to Merlin if you try anything when they come up -"
"Whose coming up? Whose here?" Harry interrupted again, looking quickly about the room, and just realizing then - no fucking way - exactly where they were. Number twelve Grimmauld Place. Sirius' house. Harry's house. Harry shivered - he had never wanted to visit this house again, ever. He'd sworn it.
Remus raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving Harry, his voice dropping another notch as soft footsteps echoed, rising up the winding stairs. "Why, your parents, of course."
Harry froze -
"Lily and James," Remus elaborated, a touch of exasperation entering his smooth, curving words. "You can't deny them now, Harry," he asked, or rather demanded, his rusty voice dropping to a scathing whisper. "Please, Harry - this will likely be the last time you ever see each other again. Don't ruin it, please -"
And then the door swung completely open, and living, breathing relics of Lily and James Potter came storming into the room, followed closely by Sirius Black breathing down their necks, and Lily cried out and James flung his hands to his hair and tears began to dribble down Sirius' cheeks and Remus' hand holding tightly to his wand began to waver, shaking with uncontrolled emotion. Harry was dizzy, frozen, choking.
He thought he was having a heart attack.
... ... ... ...
There was no way in hell Bellatrix would leave his rescue mission in the unreliable hands of her nephew. Not a fucking chance.
And she realized, creeping up behind the youth, how right her reasoning had been - Harry would never have seen freedom with the young Malfoy's rash plans, sparse cunning. Draco didn't even see her, absorbed as he was in glaring at the empty space that should have been the Black's ancestral home. Bella watched her footing, treading the muddy path that made up the muggle house's front garden opposite. Draco was crouched in the damp grass, looking angrily through the twisted, misshapen branches of a hedge into seemingly nowhere.
"How did you find him?" Bella whispered, reaching his back.
Draco yelped, jumping around to face her. "How did you find him?" he mirrored.
Bellatrix laughed. "I followed you, of course." She raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting.
Draco faltered briefly, uncertain how much he was supposed - or would be wise - to let on. But then, Draco had never been one to hold his tongue anyhow, especially when in concerned family brags. "Father got one of the rats onto it," he sneered, adding, "tracking spells, as it happens."
Bella nodded, pleased. /Good/. She jerked her head to the side, indicating the Ancient House of Black. "He's definitely in there, then?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Draco hissed. "I can't see a damned thing!"
Bellatrix laughed again. "Wards, Draco. We'll have to break the wards first."
"And then what?"
Bella grinned, a little maniacally. She'd known he wouldn't have given this the proper thought, that he wasn't really quite up to it - such a task should never have been appointed to him, really. She'd told Narcissa time and time again. And so she had been right to come. Fuck Rodolphulous. Fuck the consequences. Fuck the bloody cause.
Harry was at stake.
Her darling Harry.
... ... ... ...
Harry didn't know what to say, or what to do.
The thought that such a scene couldn't really be happening took hold of his senses, captured any reality of thought. And so Harry stole what he could from the illusion, for it was the only thing he could think of doing - better to play along with them, pretend they were right. Pretend they were real. So what if he was delusional, if he was dreaming? The likelihood of this kind of opportunity reoccurring where below phenomenally minimal, and Harry, for the time, would go along with the scenario, to get what interaction he could from his parents and Sirius. He'd make the most of it, regardless to any daunting repercussions.
And so he stared, just as he had before, avidly watching the script play out around him.
And then he joined them, pretended like they weren't really dead.
"Mum?" he ventured, carefully adding a quaver to his voice. "Dad?"
And that was all it took.
The ice was broke. Tears were shed. Hugs came in plenty.
For a moment Harry forgot, swamped as he was between two sets of eagerly searching, tightly wrapped arms. He was warm, fuzzy, his vision blurred. Harry took a deep breath, returning the hugs, hating that tears stung, threatening to leave his eyes.
"Oh, Harry!" his mum sobbed, her nails scraping his back, her firsts clenching onto him painfully. Harry winced.
James let go of him then, taking a tiny step back to view Harry properly. The wicked scent of firewhisky haunted him, saturated through the cloth of his robes. James seemed lost for words, dazed, unable to process what was happening - Harry could sympathize greatly. He caught Remus' eye, standing a little back from the group, wand tucked out of sight, but Harry was sure he still clasped it, held onto the wood as though his life depended on the contact. And maybe it would. Harry grinned at him, but the cheer was not reciprocated. Sirius moved into James' vacated spot, competing with Lily in the hug-a-thon, Harry caught, squished, between them both. For a moment Harry thought the contest might have turned nasty when he lost the feeling in his ribs, and Sirius shuffled to strangle his neck.
The moment didn't last much longer.
A bang, a crash - the large sash window looking out onto the street below exploded, sending shards of sharp cutting glass across the group, flung about the room.
Harry felt a surge of magic backlash from the house, the wards stretching thinner and thinner, pulled and prodded until they broke. A wave of heat encompassed the room, shaking its contents and throttling the air. Remus cast a shielding charm around them. James and Sirius brought their wands to the ready, waiting. Harry stopped breathing, motionless, an arm still wrapped around Lily.
Sirius' mother shrieked, terrified.
... ... ... ...
Draco smiled.
Bellatrix laughed.
The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black welcomed the duo, the front door swinging gently open.
... ... ... ...
The lights in Sirius' bedroom went out with a crack, drowning them in erie morning darkness.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, his voice a grounding whisper.
"Someone's trying to get in," Sirius answered, scoffing, loud and boasting. "But don't worry, there's no way they could -"
Outside the large bedroom, down the hall, down the stairs, down the corridor to the entrance hall, the front door squeaked open.
"Oh, shite."
"What the hell?"
"I thought you said -"
"But the house is protected, isn't it?"
"How'd they get in?"
"It's Bellatrix," Sirius hissed, shushing them. "It's got to be, then."
... ... ... ...
"What now?"
Bellatrix scowled, glowering down at her nephew. "We go fetch him, of course."
"But we don't know how many are in there, or where they're keeping him," Draco spluttered, indignant.
He was not about to walk into a bloody massacre, not for anyone.
Bellatrix didn't deem such comment worthy of reply, turning her back on him and walking quietly around the hedge of the home opposite, across the wet concrete of the road and up the small pathway towards the house. Draco reluctantly followed.
... ... ... ...
"Bellatrix? As in Bellatrix Lestrange?"
"You should know, Harry," Remus replied shortly, wryly.
Harry felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, thankful for the dull light. How the hell could they know about that?
James walked to the shattered window, looking down on the road below. "I can't see anyone."
"We should go," Lily whispered quickly, leaving Harry on the bed and stalking to her husbands side.
Remus never took his eyes off of Harry, silent, accusing.
"I can't apparate," Sirius told them gruffly.
Lily started, frowning. "Neither can I."
"We'll go out the back way, then -"
"There's too many of us. We'll have to split up, fight our way out -"
"Try the floo first," Harry suggested. "Or portkeys." All eyes turned to him, appraising.
Harry shrugged.
"We'll have to bind you," Remus gently probed. "You never know -"
"No, don't do that," Harry interrupted, glaring at the werewolf. "You might need me! What use will I be if I can't walk?"
"We can't risk it," Lily said, her voice soft. "We have to hurry."
James nodded firmly. "Sorry, Harry. You broke our trust years back."
"Petrificus Totalus."
... ... ... ...
"You said there were tracking spells?" Bella prompted, entering the house of her mother's sister.
The portrait of her Aunt eyed them wearily, testing their authenticity. Her eyes caught the pair's every movement, weighing and judging - and decisively finding the duo to be quite lacking. Bella ignored her, glaring at her blond shadow, waiting.
"Yes."
"Well?" she snapped. "We don't have all morning, Draco."
The blond scowled, grudgingly obeying. His wand danced a loopy arc, swinging to the beat of soft latin mutters. Draco's wand twitched, throbbed, and pointing up the stairs.
Bellatrix laughed. It was /too easy/.
... ... ... ...
Harry hated to feel helpless. And helpless was exactly what he was, bobbing along behind his father, a stupid useless statue.
He didn't much like the floo network either, as it happens.
The emergency portkeys issued by Dumbledore to every member of his prized Order refused to activate. Harry supposed it must have been a repercussion of the wards going down. Emerald fire, however, leap flamboyantly into life within the study hearth, three doors down from Sirius' room.
"Godrics Hollow," Lily said clearly, the first to leave them, disappearing behind a curtain of curling flame.
Remus followed, giving Harry a last balanced look on his way out.
Sirius and James turned their gaze to Harry.
"We'll push you through," Sirius told him, grinning. Harry was not mistaken by the fact that Sirius appeared to find this situation quite amusing. He was not impressed. Not in the slightest.
James grabbed a hold of Harry's shoulders, pushing him towards the licking heat. Harry tried to object, falling back on his father.
Sirius, unable to hold it in, let loose a cackling, barking laugh.
"We'll be right behind you," James told Harry, shoving him hard towards the hearth, dismantling the body-bind spell just enough to let him speak.
He never saw her before it was too late.
"Stupefy."
James went down, taking Harry tumbling to the floor with him.
Sirius turned on his heel a moment too late, but Bellatrix already had her wand raised, pointed directly to his heart.
"Don't you dare - " Harry cried.
Bellatrix paused, blinking down at Harry, surprised, and Draco shot in her stead -
"Stupefy."
...pppqqq...
Chapter Five: And Then There Were Three
... ... ... ...
They were speaking, Harry knew, but he wasn't listening. The words fell deaf, useless about him, ringing in his ears but not quite able to reach his brain, to form any sort of knowledgeable meaning. So he simply lay there, staring transfixed, his eyes boring hard into the back of Sirius' skull, unwavering, unblinking. Staring and staring and staring.
It quite simply wasn't possible.
Sirius was dead. He'd seen him die, he'd watched him fall.
Had he died? Was this hell?
But Sirius, the man who looked so much like his Sirius, was staring right back, the disbelieving glint in his eyes betraying that he didn't really think the situation possible either. This notion rather comforted Harry. And so Sirius kept staring, and Harry kept staring, and time past in unnoticed, uncared for. Vaguely Harry was aware of a letter being brashly composed, and a ruffled brown owl sent out into the frosty, dark morning. The sun was still yet to surface above a hash of stormy clouds, shedding no light on the circumstantial predicament.
" - are you even listening to me, Harry?"
"Harry?"
Harry started, turning slightly from his position on the large bed to snatch a look at Remus. He blinked. "Sorry, Remus," Harry began slowly, voice thick and caked, cracking from misuse. "What was that?"
Remus faltered, gripping his wand tighter still. Annoyance panned on his tired features, calculating an appropriate response.
"How do you feel?" Sirius asked quickly, speaking for the first time, filling the uneasy pause. "Are you alright?"
Harry nodded, though he didn't feel alright in the slightest, his eyes snapping uneasily between the two. He didn't understand - but that feeling of complete confusion was familiar now, quite the norm. Though, if he were to chose any two people that would believe him, love him unconditionally without any doubt, it would be them. He had no choice but to trust them now - his fate was in their hands. Harry's heart tightened, ready, waiting, swelled in accumulating anticipation. The progression of speech made apparent by Harry's response peaked their curiosity, threads of doubt loosened and questions ran unhindered, unbound.
"Where have you been?"
"Why did you come?"
"How'd you escape from the Ministry?"
"What do you want from us?"
Harry swallowed, shaking his head, ignoring the pointless interrogation. His eyes stung and his back ached - he had his own questions that had to be asked, that needed answers. They took priority. Harry had been right to go to Remus, then. He was glad. He'd explain, he'd understand. Harry decided reverently that he'd ignore the other man gaping at him, the man who resembled a happier, healthier Sirius then Harry had ever known before. It was too much to deal with all at once. The exposure of such an impostor would have to wait.
"I'm sorry," Harry stated, the picture of calm, a sharp contrast to his hidden turmoil, interrupting the jumble of questions thrown his way. "I just don't know - I don't understand anything right now." Harry crossed his arms across his chest, sitting up a little straighter in the bed, braced for whatever was to come, however hurtful it may be. "Won't you help me?"
Sirius looked to be considering. Almost.
Remus looked quite furious. "I think you're a little beyond our help nowadays, Harry."
"But why/?" Harry cried, unwinding all the pent up frustration that he hadn't been able to set loose before. This sort of nightmare wasn't fair - didn't he have enough to deal with already? Hadn't he had his own fair share of bad luck, of ill tidings? "For the last time, I'm not a fucking Death Eater! I never have been!! - You both /know that!"
Remus snorted. "Bloody hell, Harry! Cut the crap."
Harry growled, glaring at the werewolf. Since when had dear old Remus ever used such language? A bell chimed then, ringing down the halls of the old, creaking house. Remus and Sirius shared a look.
"I'll get it, then," Sirius offered, giving Harry a last stilted, disappointed glance. Harry felt queasy, unreasonably guilty.
But for the life of him, he couldn't understand /why/. Why the bloody hell any of this was happening.
Despite his earlier thoughts of rejoice at Remus' presence, Harry didn't then think he particularly wished to be left alone in the large dusty room with the angry werewolf. To say that Remus was positively livid would be a monstrous understatement - no, his anger reached far beyond that, breached far more personal levels. Harry couldn't think what anyone might possibly do to earn such wrath, such utter loathing from the usually kind, caring Remus.
He really didn't think he wanted to know.
"Remus," Harry pleaded, his voice quiet, cutting through the poignant silence. Remus was obviously at a loss as of what to say. Harry thought he might prefer Shacklebolt's gruff company to this. If there was ever a chance to get the truth of his words through to Remus it would be now, though."Please believe me," Harry spoke, and he brought his legs up from under the thick covers of the bed, gripping his knee caps with sweaty white knuckles. He still wore Dudley's gigantic coat, the pale blue shirt and the itchy hospitalesq trousers.
He felt dirty, contaminated. He felt plain wrong.
Remus chanced a glance at the open door, hushed voices rising from below the stairs, and took a threatening step towards Harry, his wand still held steadily before him. It was quite obvious he had no desire to carry any sort of redeemable conversation.
"Shut up, Harry," Rems told him through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring and eyes suspicious. "I swear to Merlin if you try anything when they come up -"
"Whose coming up? Whose here?" Harry interrupted again, looking quickly about the room, and just realizing then - no fucking way - exactly where they were. Number twelve Grimmauld Place. Sirius' house. Harry's house. Harry shivered - he had never wanted to visit this house again, ever. He'd sworn it.
Remus raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving Harry, his voice dropping another notch as soft footsteps echoed, rising up the winding stairs. "Why, your parents, of course."
Harry froze -
"Lily and James," Remus elaborated, a touch of exasperation entering his smooth, curving words. "You can't deny them now, Harry," he asked, or rather demanded, his rusty voice dropping to a scathing whisper. "Please, Harry - this will likely be the last time you ever see each other again. Don't ruin it, please -"
And then the door swung completely open, and living, breathing relics of Lily and James Potter came storming into the room, followed closely by Sirius Black breathing down their necks, and Lily cried out and James flung his hands to his hair and tears began to dribble down Sirius' cheeks and Remus' hand holding tightly to his wand began to waver, shaking with uncontrolled emotion. Harry was dizzy, frozen, choking.
He thought he was having a heart attack.
... ... ... ...
There was no way in hell Bellatrix would leave his rescue mission in the unreliable hands of her nephew. Not a fucking chance.
And she realized, creeping up behind the youth, how right her reasoning had been - Harry would never have seen freedom with the young Malfoy's rash plans, sparse cunning. Draco didn't even see her, absorbed as he was in glaring at the empty space that should have been the Black's ancestral home. Bella watched her footing, treading the muddy path that made up the muggle house's front garden opposite. Draco was crouched in the damp grass, looking angrily through the twisted, misshapen branches of a hedge into seemingly nowhere.
"How did you find him?" Bella whispered, reaching his back.
Draco yelped, jumping around to face her. "How did you find him?" he mirrored.
Bellatrix laughed. "I followed you, of course." She raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting.
Draco faltered briefly, uncertain how much he was supposed - or would be wise - to let on. But then, Draco had never been one to hold his tongue anyhow, especially when in concerned family brags. "Father got one of the rats onto it," he sneered, adding, "tracking spells, as it happens."
Bella nodded, pleased. /Good/. She jerked her head to the side, indicating the Ancient House of Black. "He's definitely in there, then?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Draco hissed. "I can't see a damned thing!"
Bellatrix laughed again. "Wards, Draco. We'll have to break the wards first."
"And then what?"
Bella grinned, a little maniacally. She'd known he wouldn't have given this the proper thought, that he wasn't really quite up to it - such a task should never have been appointed to him, really. She'd told Narcissa time and time again. And so she had been right to come. Fuck Rodolphulous. Fuck the consequences. Fuck the bloody cause.
Harry was at stake.
Her darling Harry.
... ... ... ...
Harry didn't know what to say, or what to do.
The thought that such a scene couldn't really be happening took hold of his senses, captured any reality of thought. And so Harry stole what he could from the illusion, for it was the only thing he could think of doing - better to play along with them, pretend they were right. Pretend they were real. So what if he was delusional, if he was dreaming? The likelihood of this kind of opportunity reoccurring where below phenomenally minimal, and Harry, for the time, would go along with the scenario, to get what interaction he could from his parents and Sirius. He'd make the most of it, regardless to any daunting repercussions.
And so he stared, just as he had before, avidly watching the script play out around him.
And then he joined them, pretended like they weren't really dead.
"Mum?" he ventured, carefully adding a quaver to his voice. "Dad?"
And that was all it took.
The ice was broke. Tears were shed. Hugs came in plenty.
For a moment Harry forgot, swamped as he was between two sets of eagerly searching, tightly wrapped arms. He was warm, fuzzy, his vision blurred. Harry took a deep breath, returning the hugs, hating that tears stung, threatening to leave his eyes.
"Oh, Harry!" his mum sobbed, her nails scraping his back, her firsts clenching onto him painfully. Harry winced.
James let go of him then, taking a tiny step back to view Harry properly. The wicked scent of firewhisky haunted him, saturated through the cloth of his robes. James seemed lost for words, dazed, unable to process what was happening - Harry could sympathize greatly. He caught Remus' eye, standing a little back from the group, wand tucked out of sight, but Harry was sure he still clasped it, held onto the wood as though his life depended on the contact. And maybe it would. Harry grinned at him, but the cheer was not reciprocated. Sirius moved into James' vacated spot, competing with Lily in the hug-a-thon, Harry caught, squished, between them both. For a moment Harry thought the contest might have turned nasty when he lost the feeling in his ribs, and Sirius shuffled to strangle his neck.
The moment didn't last much longer.
A bang, a crash - the large sash window looking out onto the street below exploded, sending shards of sharp cutting glass across the group, flung about the room.
Harry felt a surge of magic backlash from the house, the wards stretching thinner and thinner, pulled and prodded until they broke. A wave of heat encompassed the room, shaking its contents and throttling the air. Remus cast a shielding charm around them. James and Sirius brought their wands to the ready, waiting. Harry stopped breathing, motionless, an arm still wrapped around Lily.
Sirius' mother shrieked, terrified.
... ... ... ...
Draco smiled.
Bellatrix laughed.
The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black welcomed the duo, the front door swinging gently open.
... ... ... ...
The lights in Sirius' bedroom went out with a crack, drowning them in erie morning darkness.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, his voice a grounding whisper.
"Someone's trying to get in," Sirius answered, scoffing, loud and boasting. "But don't worry, there's no way they could -"
Outside the large bedroom, down the hall, down the stairs, down the corridor to the entrance hall, the front door squeaked open.
"Oh, shite."
"What the hell?"
"I thought you said -"
"But the house is protected, isn't it?"
"How'd they get in?"
"It's Bellatrix," Sirius hissed, shushing them. "It's got to be, then."
... ... ... ...
"What now?"
Bellatrix scowled, glowering down at her nephew. "We go fetch him, of course."
"But we don't know how many are in there, or where they're keeping him," Draco spluttered, indignant.
He was not about to walk into a bloody massacre, not for anyone.
Bellatrix didn't deem such comment worthy of reply, turning her back on him and walking quietly around the hedge of the home opposite, across the wet concrete of the road and up the small pathway towards the house. Draco reluctantly followed.
... ... ... ...
"Bellatrix? As in Bellatrix Lestrange?"
"You should know, Harry," Remus replied shortly, wryly.
Harry felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, thankful for the dull light. How the hell could they know about that?
James walked to the shattered window, looking down on the road below. "I can't see anyone."
"We should go," Lily whispered quickly, leaving Harry on the bed and stalking to her husbands side.
Remus never took his eyes off of Harry, silent, accusing.
"I can't apparate," Sirius told them gruffly.
Lily started, frowning. "Neither can I."
"We'll go out the back way, then -"
"There's too many of us. We'll have to split up, fight our way out -"
"Try the floo first," Harry suggested. "Or portkeys." All eyes turned to him, appraising.
Harry shrugged.
"We'll have to bind you," Remus gently probed. "You never know -"
"No, don't do that," Harry interrupted, glaring at the werewolf. "You might need me! What use will I be if I can't walk?"
"We can't risk it," Lily said, her voice soft. "We have to hurry."
James nodded firmly. "Sorry, Harry. You broke our trust years back."
"Petrificus Totalus."
... ... ... ...
"You said there were tracking spells?" Bella prompted, entering the house of her mother's sister.
The portrait of her Aunt eyed them wearily, testing their authenticity. Her eyes caught the pair's every movement, weighing and judging - and decisively finding the duo to be quite lacking. Bella ignored her, glaring at her blond shadow, waiting.
"Yes."
"Well?" she snapped. "We don't have all morning, Draco."
The blond scowled, grudgingly obeying. His wand danced a loopy arc, swinging to the beat of soft latin mutters. Draco's wand twitched, throbbed, and pointing up the stairs.
Bellatrix laughed. It was /too easy/.
... ... ... ...
Harry hated to feel helpless. And helpless was exactly what he was, bobbing along behind his father, a stupid useless statue.
He didn't much like the floo network either, as it happens.
The emergency portkeys issued by Dumbledore to every member of his prized Order refused to activate. Harry supposed it must have been a repercussion of the wards going down. Emerald fire, however, leap flamboyantly into life within the study hearth, three doors down from Sirius' room.
"Godrics Hollow," Lily said clearly, the first to leave them, disappearing behind a curtain of curling flame.
Remus followed, giving Harry a last balanced look on his way out.
Sirius and James turned their gaze to Harry.
"We'll push you through," Sirius told him, grinning. Harry was not mistaken by the fact that Sirius appeared to find this situation quite amusing. He was not impressed. Not in the slightest.
James grabbed a hold of Harry's shoulders, pushing him towards the licking heat. Harry tried to object, falling back on his father.
Sirius, unable to hold it in, let loose a cackling, barking laugh.
"We'll be right behind you," James told Harry, shoving him hard towards the hearth, dismantling the body-bind spell just enough to let him speak.
He never saw her before it was too late.
"Stupefy."
James went down, taking Harry tumbling to the floor with him.
Sirius turned on his heel a moment too late, but Bellatrix already had her wand raised, pointed directly to his heart.
"Don't you dare - " Harry cried.
Bellatrix paused, blinking down at Harry, surprised, and Draco shot in her stead -
"Stupefy."
...pppqqq...
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